


The Wrong Door

by clarias



Series: Tumblr Fic [4]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-14
Updated: 2014-10-14
Packaged: 2018-02-21 04:19:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2454488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clarias/pseuds/clarias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a prompt from <a href="http://sato-mobile.tumblr.com/">sato-mobile</a></p><p>AU meme: meeting by knocking on the wrong door</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wrong Door

 

Another Saturday, another night of incessant yapping from the apartment above. Korra stares up at the ceiling over her bed, imagining she can see the mutt through the plaster and floorboards. She imagines that it’s small, dressed up in a tutu half its life, and carried around in a handbag.

With a yawn she rolls over and checks her alarm clock: 3am. Awesome, she needs to be up in four hours. 

She just wishes she knew why it was only Saturday nights - she’s starting to suspect the dog knows her baguazhang instructor, Tenzin, has her doing early practice on Sundays, and is doing it out of sheer spite. 

Just imagining Tenzin’s grumpy face tips her over. That’s it, she’s put up with this for the last month since she moved in, and she’s  _done._ She expected things to be a little different when she came to the city but this is ridiculous. 

She springs out of bed and shucks on a hoodie over her PJs. She knows her hair is probably a horrifying mess and her eyes are dark pits of sleep-deprived despair but so much the better, the owners of the dog from hell deserve to see how she suffers.

As she mounts the cold concrete stairs she starts to wish she’d at least thought to put some slippers on, but the worsening din of the barking stiffens her resolve. 

In a sleepy haze she bangs on the door of the apartment above hers. She’s pretty sure it’s the right one, anyway, but her ears are ringing and now she’s upright she’s only sleepier. As she hears someone shuffling about behind the closed door she works herself up into a state of coiled anger, preparing the many scathing remarks she’s about to make.

The door opens and behind it stands the prettiest girl Korra has ever seen. Faced with her silky ink-black hair and perfect arching eyebrows, the self righteous vitriol dies on her tongue and she stands there frozen, her hands uncurling from the fists she’d balled them into. 

"Can I help you?" the girls asks through a yawn, hiding her mouth behind one manicured hand. 

"Um…." Korra reponds eloquently, suddenly forgetting why she came. A high pitched yowl pierces the air and makes both of them jump. "I can’t sleep?"

The girl blinks her jewel green eyes at her blankly. “I’m sorry?” she asks, as if maybe she just misheard, and Korra had been perfectly coherent.

"I mean the dog," Korra corrects herself, trying to gather her scattered thoughts. This lady may be unreasonably beautiful but she still owns the world’s most annoying canine. "Your dog is keeping me awake."

Unexpectedly, the girl laughs. Korra is about to get offended and start defending her right to sleep when she explains: “I think you mean Old Mrs Ding’s dog next door. She has dialysis treatment every weekend and they keep her in the hospital every weekend. I think it misses her.”

Korra feels a blush rising in her cheeks. “This is the wrong apartment,” she says, looking around and realising she made a miscalculation. “I woke you up! I’m so sorry!”

The girl shrugs and leans wearily against the door frame. “I wasn’t actually asleep, it runs around next to my bedroom making the most awful racket. My only tip is wear earmuffs,” she says, indicating the fuzzy burgundy pair slung around her neck. 

Korra’s eyes follow the movement of her hand, taking in her elegant pale throat and the tantalising triangle of skin exposed between the folds of her silk wrap. She blames the sleep deprivation and forcefully wrenches her eyes upward.

"Do they work?" she asks.

The girl laughs and shakes her head. “Well, I’m not asleep.”

Korra laughs at the joke, then when she can’t think of a rejoinder, stands there dumbly in the corridor, shuffling her feet. 

"I guess I should go then?" she suggests.

"We should probably both try to get some sleep," her neighbour agrees.

"I’ll see you around then," Korra says. "I’m Korra by the way, and again, sorry I disturbed you."

She waves the apology off. “Don’t worry about it, Korra. My name’s Asami,” she says.

What a perfect name. “Good night Asami,” she says.

The door snicks shut and Korra trudges back downstairs to her empty apartment, her anger turned cold in her gut.

::

She thinks about her beautiful upstairs neighbour all throughout practice, moving mechanically between stances and staring off into space. She’s trying to name the exact shade of green of her eyes - forest? jade? tourmaline? - when Tenzin strikes out of nowhere and sweeps her off her feet.

"Korra, you need to be aware of your surroundings!" he lectures while she rubs her bruised tail bone. "Were you out late last night?"

"First of all - ow!" she protests, picking herself off the floor. "And no, I was in all night."

"Then you have no excuse," he says, and goes through her drills again.

::

She wouldn’t like to admit it, if she had anyone to press her about this kind of thing, but Korra spends the next week lurking around the shared spaces of the building, hoping for a glimpse of her neighbour.

It’s not just for shallow reasons, not really. She wants another chance to apologise, and maybe make a better second impression. 

But no matter how long she lingers checking her mail, or sits around the communal laundry room, or even drags her feet taking out the trash, she doesn’t see Asami.

She sighs as she flips a coin destined for the dryer between her fingers, hypnotised by the steady round-and-round of the washing machine.

It’s probably just because she’s in a new city and she doesn’t really know anyone, she reasons to herself. At first it was exciting - Tenzin’s an amazing instructor and it’s a real privilege to be taken on as a one-to-one student but it doesn’t really afford her much chance to meet people.

As much as her instructor wants to believe she’s out clubbing every night, the truth is she’s appallingly bad at approaching people, especially girls. She usually ends up hovering ostentatiously and praying desperately for them to come to her. As a strategy it sucks, but at least she never has to hear someone gently but awkwardly tell her they’re just not interested.

The fantasy of the beautiful stranger who she can talk and laugh with so easily, even when she’s angry and sleep deprived is probably just that - a fantasy. It doesn’t make it easier to let go of, though.

::

The next Saturday she lies in bed, her new fluffy earmuffs dulling the sound of barking a bit, but not nearly enough to let her sleep.

She thinks about going upstairs again, knocking on that same door. Maybe she would be invited in for cocoa and they could wait out their sleepless night together.

It’s absurd of course - she’s just like that little dog upstairs, lonely and trying to reach out.

::

In all that time lying about in the dark, she has an idea about how to help everyone involved, and she sets it in motion as soon as she returns bruised and yawning from practice.

She introduces herself to Old Mrs Ding (although she drops the “old” when she talks to her) and ends up meeting the hell hound in person.

Her heart melts immediately. Mr Snuffles bounds into her arms, wagging his tail frantically. As she strokes his blotchy brown head and hugs his wiggling pale body, she realises how much she’d been missing having a pet. 

Old Mrs Ding smiles down beatifically. 

::

The next Saturday afternoon she picks up Mr Snuffles and a bag of food and his favourite blanket.

As she says goodbye to Old Mrs Ding she glances down the hallway to the door she mistakenly knocked on. She hesitates out in the hall, long enough that Mr Snuffles gives up waiting and sits down at her feet, scratching behind his ear. 

With a deep breath she knocks on the door. 

She pulls at her sweater, wishing she’d thought to dress up a bit more - it’s not a huge improvement from last time given her hair is pulled up in a messy bun and she’s wearing her sweats.

The door opens and the person behind it is just as lovely as she remembered, though a bit more fully dressed. Asami smiles in recognition, but hesitates when she sees the dog at Korra’s feet.

"Hi!" Korra says, trying to at least be a bit less weird than last time. "I just thought I’d let you know that Mr Snuffles won’t be bothering you tonight."

"Are you looking after him?" she asks.

Korra nods and bends down to give him a scratch behind his ears. “He’s a good dog really, I just think he misses the company. I can kinda relate,” she says, then grimaces at how sad that sounds. “Anyway,” she covers quickly, “you should be able to get to sleep at least.”

"That’s such a great idea!" the girl exclaims with a smile. "I can’t believe I never thought of it. Please, let me buy you dinner as a thank you."

Korra can feel her cheeks reddening again. “Oh no, you don’t have to. I was just going to stay in tonight, anyway.”

She shrugs. “We can get take out. Please, I’d love to,” she says, her eyes glimmering hopefully. “Ever since you knocked on my door two weeks, ago, I wanted to get to know you.”

"Alright," Korra agrees with a smile. "What do you want to know?"

::

The next morning, Korra is once again slow and unresponsive and distracted at training.

But not even being knocked to ground can dislodge the dopey grin from her face.


End file.
